


The Healer

by WakeUpTigerLily



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels, Crowley Being an Asshole, Dead Angels, Dean Angst, Dean Being an Asshole, Dean Feels, F/M, Fallen Angels, Fluff and Angst, My First Fanfic, Native American Character(s), Psychic Abilities, Psychological Torture, There will be many more chapters and tags, Torture, sort of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-01-06
Packaged: 2018-03-05 15:11:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3124826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WakeUpTigerLily/pseuds/WakeUpTigerLily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Original female character finds out about her ancestry and it eventually runs her life. Spin on angels and native american lore, original character based on myself and my ancestry (I'm not a NA princess, it just seemed to fit better). It's my first fanfic, I was so inspired by some of the stories I read on here that I decided to make my own. I'll add as much as possible, as often as possible. Any feedback would be great.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Backstory (sorry so short, I'm just getting started!)

Your mother had been a healer, that you knew outright. It was passed down through your bloodline as far back as the records of your family go. You had researched your Native American heritage for a genealogy project in high school 10 years ago. You were originally of the Susquhannock Tribe, native to the Pocono Mountains in Pennsylvania, but they eventually migrated south (Delaware, Maryland, and Virginia) to join the Iroquois for protection. Finding this out helped pay for college and Graduate school, especially since your father was AWOL and your mother couldn't really hold a steady job.   
Once you registered your heritage, you were contacted by the National Counsel of Native Americans. They had information for you and your mother about the nature of your bloodline. You were a protected line of healers, apparently the equivalent of royalty in the Native American tribal counsels. The elders wanted to meet, and as excited as you were, an overwhelming feeling of terror crept its way in.   
Your mother physically looked the part of a Native, her tanned skin, almond colored eyes, dark hair on a 5'5” frame with an air of wisdom about her. You however, looked like an Irish immigrant on steroids; light skin, blonde hair, with grey eyes on a 5'10” frame. Everything about you screamed “I DON'T BELONG” and that is exactly how the elders looked at you. (Great. I'm sticking out like a sore thumb. I can't blend in, just once??) The highest of elders took your hand in his, with a flash that you could have sworn made his eyes a vibrant blue, he seemed to have looked into your soul, well that's what it felt like. He smiled, whispered in his assistants ear, and nodded the confirmation that you were indeed part of the protected line. Everyone was gazing at you and your mother like you had the answers to all of their questions. It wasn't until you were 27 years old did you start to understand what those looks really meant.


	2. The Straw That Broke The Camels Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The original characters name is Stephanie. Her perceived world is about to come crashing down.

You had just turned 27, it was January, your favorite time of year in Philadelphia. The snow calms you down, slows everything so time passes perfectly. Your mother moved into the other side of the duplex you purchased last year. It's been really rough for her since, well since the meteor shower. She panicked when she saw what was happening, running out of the house and driving away. She should have stayed with you, she knew something about it, you were sure of it, and you felt the splitting headache come on. Within a few seconds it went full force and incapacitated you. That was the third violent migraine you've had. You remember one when you were 14 years old, right after your father left, one when you were 21 years old and one during the meteor shower. The last one left you crying in a cold sweat on the floor of your bathroom. That was over a year ago, you tried not to think about them, but the really tough times seem to start right after them.

Your mom hadn't been the same since then, more so than usual. All your life, every so often she would space out, get really sketchy, leave for days on end. When she would come back from wherever it was she ran off to, and she would be the wonderful loving mother that you knew, a touch more sadness in her voice and eyes, but she always bounced back. You knew not to ask what happened, she would never tell you. She had been non-stop back and forth this year, and she acted differently each time you saw her, like she was trying on all sorts of personalities, it was the strangest sensation. You were seeing your mother, but you weren't seeing your mother. 

Today, she just looked terrible, run down. You invited her to sit down for a small dinner you made just to talk to her, her interests appeared to be elsewhere. She did sit down, but after her not answering and looking through you, not at you, you went back to your copy of Diary by Chuck Palahniuk. Shoving your nose in a book is a distraction from the shell of a person that used to be your mother in front of you. When she finished, you took her plate into the kitchen for you to wash, later, tomorrow, honestly whenever you got around to it. 

“Goodnight, Stephanie.” She addresses you almost mechanically. 

“Night, Mom.” She was already out the door.

A few weeks later, you hadn't seen your mother, you knew she had been in her side of the duplex, but apparently only to change her clothes and shower. You were used to it, so you went about your normal, everyday life.

After coming home from working both jobs, all you wanted to do was crawl into bed. It was after midnight, so you brushed your teeth half-assed, changed into an old Harley Davidson t-shirt and basketball shorts, and flopped into bed. Tossing and turning, you couldn't shake a feeling of, wrongness, just utter wrongness. About 4 am, you finally drifted off to sleep, only to be ripped awake, another migraine tearing your head apart. 

This was the worst you have ever felt, you couldn't focus, you felt like the room was spinning, cold sweat soaking your hair to your head and the sheet to your legs, heaving breathing, salivating like you were about to be sick. Stumbling the entire way to the bathroom, you chug cold water and splash some on your face. The spots were forming in your vision, all the windows in the house sounded like they are shattering, all the televisions are now turned on and screaming at you, and before you know, it all goes black.


	3. This is what you are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephanie finds out who she is, but there are more questions that have yet to be answered.

“SONOFABITCH!” You were coming to, feeling the cold tile on your back where your shirt rode up, and the snow from the broken windows whipping around you, landing wherever they damn well pleased. 

“What is wrong with me!” You slowly got up, unable to fully concentrate on anything with the ringing in your ears, the TV’s squealing, and, is the house shaking? Or is that me? 

You move out of the bathroom to the windows in your hallway, and look out. The shaking stops. The ringing stops. You see this beautiful blue/white light, and then you hear the voice. The voice of this light. That's it, the headaches were your brain breaking. No other explanation. You are completely mental. 

“You are not mentally impaired. You are a vessel. The bloodline of an ancient group of healing vessels. You were shielded from your true power by your mother, who is also a healing vessel, the Angel that was being mended by her while you were conceived and subsequently being born, the Archangel Gabriel, and your father. You are more powerful than any I have ever witnessed.” The Angel (I'm pretty sure it just claimed to be an Angel), began explaining. “As soon as the Angel Nora was killed, killing her vessel, your mother, a few moments ago, you lit up like a beacon. I am injured, I need permission to enter your vessel.”  
“To do what now? Enter my vessel? DO YOU REALIZE YOU JUST TOLD ME THAT MY MOTHER IS DEAD?” Your voice so high pitched it was unrecognizable. 

“Your mother was the only known healing vessel. Since the fall she has healed us quickly, found willing temporary vessels, and helped us on our way. This is what she was. And now this is what you are.”

“What I am is crazy. No.” Your head was spinning again. The knock at the door brought you out of your dizziness, though you didn't move. The knocking became more frantic. 

“Brother?” The voice of the light you were speaking to sounded like it was dripping hatred.

Gathering the energy to run down the steps, you fling open the door, to find your mother's old friend, “Mr. Loki?” you breathed out, puzzled. You could see a blue haze coming off of him, much like the blue from the Angel outside.

“Sweet cheeks, it's not Mr. Loki, it's Gabriel. And you need to come with me. Now.” As he made his demand, he touched your wrist, hearing the flutter of wings and the feeling of weightless travel, you were no longer in your home. 

The air was cool, crisp, soothing. Your panic had subsided, but the sting of your mother's possible death was still lurking. You weren't sure what to believe, how much of what was said was truth from the Angel outside your house. You were standing on a hunting trail you recognized, your dad used to bring you here, just outside of Paupack, Pennsylvania. 

“What just happened?” You whipped your head around to see Mr. Loki, no wait, Gabriel? The Archangel Gabriel was one of your protectors? And he's...

“Let me speed this up a bit before you give yourself a headache, sweet cheeks. I chose to bring you here because it is a positive memory for you. A lot of people knew me as Loki, or the trickster, but Amitiel wasn't lying, the name's Gabriel.” He extends his hand to you, and you look at it, but your brain didn't seem to connect the dots and you remained silent and still. “Alrighty then, no handshake, rude, but okay. You want some clarification?” He cocked his eyebrow at you quizzically, waiting for an answer. You nodded your head, slightly. 

“You got the tribal history from the Iroquois elders a few years back, they left out a few things. The tribe you hail from are all traditionally vessels, but your bloodline is sacred, an advanced type, capable of complete healing in short periods of time. Your mother knew that, it was part of her growing up, from her parents, and there parents and so on, blah, blah, blah.” Gabriel trailed off. Looking at you for questions so far. 

“I don't understand why she never told me, and why that Angel said I lit up like a beacon, any why you're glowing now and you never did before...” stammering over words trying to hold back stress filled tears. 

“Going straight for the million dollar questions? Good, your paying attention. 27 years and 9 months ago, your mother was in the process of healing Theliel when your father came home, not altogether himself, and they got a little frisky...”

“What do you mean my dad wasn't himself?” You cut him off.

“Where there are Angels, there are Demons. Dear old dad was riding shotgun while a demon took the wheel. Two humans conceived you, but you got a little extra from both sides. Dads demon made some noise in his meat suit, until he found out your mom was pregnant. He decided to stick around. Theliel put wardings in place, hoping to protect you from harm. Even inhabited your mother while she gave birth to ensure some protective grace made its way to you. After you were born, your immense power was evident. More wards were built, powers made dormant, your father even added some protections on you, and as long as those who placed the wards were living, you would never be the wiser.” Gabriel paused, giving you a chance to take in this information.

“That means they're all dead. If this is all happening now, they are all dead.” Sinking down to sit on the dirt covered trail. You start to soak it all in. 

“Your headaches are part of this. Your father was killed when you were 14 years old. I was killed by my brother when you were 21 years old, I am fine now, thanks for asking. Theliel in the fall, which you saw as a meteor shower, and your mother tonight. The wards are gone, all I can do now is add some Angel warding on your rib cage, which might not cut it, but it will help.” He looked down at you with sincerity. 

“And the blue haze?” You ask.

“I have no idea. You might be able to spot Angels, giving you a chance to keep your distance? Honestly, your abilities are unknown, one of the reasons your mother was trying to keep you in the dark. You will be targeted, both Angels and Demons will want to have you on their side, possibly as a weapon. Only time will tell what your true abilities are, and I made a promise to protect you for as long as I can. Stand up so we can get this done,” he again offers his hand to you, “this is going to hurt a bit. I've got some people I need to introduce you to, and might be pissed to see me.”

He placed his hand on your sternum, the burn only lasted a few seconds. He put his arms around you and you were off, leaving all you ever knew behind.


End file.
